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The Woman.
Give!
Brand.
<g>Share</g> it, say'st thou?—Agnes; <g>share</g> it?
Agnes.
[Wildly.]
I will rather die than spare it
All! See, inch by inch I've bent
To thy will; my force is spent!
Half's enough; she needs no more!
Brand.
Was the whole too much before,
When for <g>thy</g> child it was meant?
Agnes.
[Gives.]
Woman, take; in this was clad
At the font my little lad.
Here the scarf, cloak, mantle, good
For the night-air, here the hood
Warm for winter; take this last
The Woman.
Give me!
Brand.
Is this all thou hast?
Agnes.
[Gives again.]
Take the crowning vesture worn,
By the child to Death's Font
